A humorous view of politics, religion, human behavior, and insights toward everyday happenings by a single guy living in downtown Chicago.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

What would Polly say?

When I was growing up, I had your usual array of pets.

There was a black cat named Babo when I was little. On my eighth birthday, I was surprised with a six-week old Beagle puppy that I named Snoopy. How original. Then, there was the debacle with the hamsters.

After Snoopy’s demise when I was fifteen (a mishap with the milk-man’s truck, very tragic) we obtained a huge Persian-mix named Chow-Chow who was a total whore. She had two litters of kittens before she was eleven months old. Such a slut. Definitely a nappy-headed ho.

For some reason, I’ve always wanted a parrot. I still do.

A parrot was out of the question because they were so expensive. Oh, I was supplied with a parakeet for a while soon after the hamsters met their end. But I knew that parakeets were a dime-a-dozen. They couldn’t talk or really do anything. I’d let it fly around my bedroom, unfettered and un-caged. Then one day, I couldn’t fine it anywhere.

Oh well.

About a month later, I found the body. I had some black-light posters rolled up in tubes, stashed away in a corner. Apparently the poor bird had flown into one of the tubes and, well, you get the picture.

I never did get a parrot, though.

In college, I had a friend named Audon who was pretty effeminate and sounded just like a parrot when he spoke.

“Audon, you sound just like a parrot.”

“I do not sound like a par-rrrott!” he'd squawk.

Years later, a neighbor friend of mine had a parrot that, when the doorbell or phone would ring, it would screech, “I’ll get it! I’ll get it! I’ll get it!”

That was so cool. I wanted a parrot like that.

The author, David Sedaris, had the best parrot story. Apparently his sister had a parrot for years. She also drank quite a bit. Subsequently, the parrot was able to perfectly imitate the automatic ice dispenser on the fridge.

“He can do the blender too,” she said.

I wonder what repetitive sounds a parrot would pick up on from my apartment.

There’s the theme to The Waltons that plays on the Lifetime Channel twice in the morning while I’m getting ready, and then twice when I watch it on Tivo in the evening. No doubt, he’d pick up on that.

Whenever I get bored, (which is a lot), I play The Flight of the Bumblebee on the piano for about thirty seconds and then stop. He’d love that.

But the sound he’d hear the most would definitely be the Tivo, fast-forwarding through the commercials.b’doop, b’doop, b’doop!Those of you with Tivos know what I’m talking about.b’doop, b’doop, b’doop!That poor bird would be going b’doop, b’doop, b’doop! within an hour of residing with me.